


you nailed my heart to your wall but it was damaged anyways

by irene123



Category: Saturday Night Live, Saturday Night Live RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Discussion of Abortion, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Abortion, hey ao3 we need to separate main and minor characters and relationships asap, this is obviously fiction don't @ me about how i'm characterizing certain people, this shit can get so confusing with the current way of tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 03:12:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 7,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15963476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irene123/pseuds/irene123
Summary: more than a year after Colin and Emma ended a relationship full of turbulence, a relationship that no one knew about, it seemed like there was still something there.maybe there always will be something there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know when this will be updated next, and i don't know what it'll turn into yet. so tags, ratings, character lists may change, pairings may be added, notes and summary might be updated  
> i have daily doubts about what i'm writing and my style since this is my attempt at building a habit of writing daily, i don't feel like it's my best work, and i apologize iin advance if what this turns into is a hot mess, but i hope you'll enjoy it.  
> title from big boy by charlotte cardin

_Hey, where is it at?_

_35 th and 76th. They’re about to arrive._

_I’ll be late. Don’t tell anyone I’m coming, okay._

_Don’t know why you had to lie to him and say you weren’t sure._

_I didn’t know I was coming until last night. It’s complicated._

_I’m sure it is. Where are you staying?_

_Your guest room?_

_I don’t have such a thing, try again._

_Your floor._

_You’re hilarious._

_I can find a hotel for one night. Or a floor. I have a meeting in the morning, and then I have a flight._

_That’s fucking stupid. You took a 7 hour flight for one day?_

_Yes. And you can’t make me stay cause I didn’t bring any luggage anyway._

_Another genius move on your end._

_Sure, you’re brave in texts. Scold me in person, Davidson._

_Well get your ass here then._

  


Emma stared through the window of the Uber, feeling kind of worn out and empty. The last 24 hours had been a roller coaster. They started with a great night with the guy she’d been dating for three months, which grew into a fight about going to New York for thirty six hours, which then ended with them breaking up. And after a sleepless night she got on the first flight to New York, so she can attend the birthday party of the man she actually loves, a party hosted by his girlfriend. So yes, she felt empty and worn out and pathetic. Most of all she felt unloved.

Sitting on the backseat of the car her mind started racing through the events of the last two years, the events that brought her to where she is. It wasn’t the time or place for such a thing, and normally, she would have stopped herself. But she was on her way to guaranteed suffering, whether she stopped herself or not, some time that night her train of thought would once again end up leading there. Call it for what it really was - just getting it done with.

She asked the Uber driver to drop her off two blocks away from the bar. The walking could only do her good, it could help her clear her head a bit. She knew it couldn't calm her nerves down, nothing could calm her down. But like a bandage, right. In and out. Cause he asked her to. And she couldn’t let herself to not do it.

Colin asked her to come multiple times, and she couldn’t let him down.


	2. Chapter 2

Emma did everything she could. She smiled, she chatted with everyone who approached her, sticking with Leslie, Cecily and sometimes Pete whenever she was left to choose. She played nice. She played the role of the best friend perfectly. It drained her emotionally. But it was this one thing, and once this was done, it was all over. One last thing to do before she could move on with her life. At least that’s what it felt like.

She walked over to the bar, ordering her second Sex on the Beach. She propped up her elbows on the counter and watched as the bartender mixed her drink. She went for something fruity, she didn’t want to remember taste the alcohol – her goal was to get drunk. Those weird fruity cocktails tend to hit her harder and go down easier. She had to hold on just a little bit longer.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” she heard Colin’s voice, so she turned around to face him. She wasn’t glad. It was more painful than she expected it to be. She begged her agent to find some literally convention, book fair, or some event, even meetings with some hot-shot producers that want rights to her books, anything to keep her away this week. With everything she could've scheduled there was absolutely nothing to keep her busy or out of the US on the day of his birthday. It almost felt like she didn’t have a choice.

“It’s a great party,” she replied.

Colin nodded. She suspected that he noticed how she was avoiding him all evening. But she was sure that he noticed the way she avoided the subject.

“Pete said you have no where to stay.”

“I do have where to stay,” she spoke. A lie, an eye-catchingly obvious one. Colin read right through it.

“Cause Cecily owes me a favor, I can…”

“No need,” Emma interrupted him.

“Okay.”

Another nod. Followed by another awkward silence.

She felt his eyes on her as she reached out to accept the drink. In her head she was trying to figure out a way to end the conversation.

“What’s that?” Colin asked, pointing to her elbow.

She gripped the drink, pulling down her sleeve to cover it up.

“Nothing,” she shrugged.

“Show me,” he said, catching her arm, “Why do you have a band-aid on?”

Lie. Just lie about it, she thought. But she also desperately wanted say this one thing in his face. Showing what's under the band-aid would give her the chance.

“I got a tattoo," she said, feeling his fingers loosen. Colin immediately went to take the band-aid off, his fingernails finding the tip of the tape.

"It's not new,” he noted, inspecting it closely, "You got a Harry Potter tattoo,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. Or maybe disbelief, or anger. This one was hard to read

“I wanted a reminder," she said.

“A reminder. Right," he said, "Yet you covered it up."

"Cause I didn't want to ruin your day."

"So why did you tell me?"

"I'm never successful at lying to you," she admitted, watching the judgement in his eyes as she took a sip of her drink.

One last awkward silence accompanied by Colin looking around the room. Emma wondered if he regretted insisting that she'd come as much as she regretted coming.

The silence was broken when Scarlett came to get him. Watching him leave her behind, Emma downed her drink before ordering another one. One last drink and she was out of there.


	3. Chapter 3

When Emma released her first book, she didn’t expect it to be as big of a success as it was. She expected to sell a few copies, she worked on a strategy with her agent to promote it enough that it does. The publisher had little faith in the project, they didn’t even bring in their PR team. Emma busted her ass, reaching out to reviewers, running ads with the last of her money. And then a miracle: she met the number of first run copies on pre-orders only. That was the first surprise.

The second surprise was the awards – all the small ones before the big ones: the Pulitzer and the Nobel, those never crossed her mind.

The last was that someone would want to turn her work into a movie, let alone that it would be Chris Evans and that he’d do a great job at it. Great enough for an Oscar. But that happened too.

That’s how she met everyone. Chris was hosting SNL when they were starting pre-production, running ideas by each other during his week there. Meeting people had never been her forte, but it all changed that week. It all led to what the previous two and a half years had been. It also led to this.

Colin should’ve minded his own business during the party. But he didn’t. It turned into a mind game, Emma expected it to. But she didn’t think that it’d be in such a way. One little comment, and she was done. That was all she could take. She walked away, her phone in hand as she quickly sent a text. She spent few more minutes inside, one last stroll among the people till she received needed answer.

“I’m leaving,” Emma said to Pete, an unspoken goodbye. She was headed for the door, stopping only to say goodbye to the girls. That’s where Pete caught up.

“I’ll walk you out,” he said, now leading the way out of the bar. He stopped as soon as they walked out, a few lines of conversation to ease the inevitable separation. Emma might have posed as Colin’s best friend, concealing the true nature of their relationship, but with Pete she actually good friends. Much more friendly than with Colin. Putting his hands in his pockets, Pete was the first one to speak, “Did you find where to stay?” he asked.

“Sebastian's couch,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. Way too cold of a night for June, Emma noticed, feeling the cold on her legs, “He's in a cab, he's gonna pick me up. And he starts filming in Dublin in a few months, I promised I’d give him some tips.”

“Right,” Pete nodded, “I’ve never seen you this sober after a party,” he teased her after a short pause. If this was a regular situation, she’d laugh. But it wasn’t, some buttons that should’ve stayed untouched were pushed all the way through.

“I apparently get scolded at my third drink as of today,” Emma stated, rolling her eyes.

“Colin?” Pete’s voice was full of disbelief, “Why the fuck would he care?”

“He doesn’t. He’s just an asshole,” she said, her bitterness evident on every syllable.

A change of the subject was imminent. Emma didn’t want to explain what she meant by that statement, and if Pete didn’t start talking about something else, she would’ve.

“When are we seeing you next?”

“I don’t know. When are you coming to Dublin?”

“Never,” he laughed, shaking his head, “Your ride is here,” he spoke, pointing at a stopped cab, Sebastian waving her over. They both started walking to the cab, “You know, it’s weird not having someone to watch weird cartoons with.”

“Pete, we did that three times.”

“Yeah, but if you were around we could’ve done it more,” he said, opening the cab door and holding it for her.

“Don’t get sentimental on me,” Emma returned, “Give me a hug, woman up. Call whenever.”

“Will do,” Pete offered a smile, loosening up his grip, “Bye.”

“Bye,” she said, seconding it with a smile back. She got into the car and closed the cab door behind, then turned to Sebastian.

“You're the last person who I thought would call tonight,” was the statement he greeted her with as the cab started to move, “You call on Wednesdays and Sundays, never Fridays.”

“I didn't realize there was a pattern.”

“What brings you to town?”

“Colin's birthday,” she shrugged, ”Do you want to get wasted with me, and do you have booze at home?”

“Yes and no. But there's a store a block away from mine,” he pursed his lips, looking at her with worried eyes, “Wanna tell me what's up?”

“I dated Colin for a year and a half. And for the rest, I need to be way drunker,” she stated, then pointed a finger at him, “If you tell Chris, you're dead to me.”

“When have I ever told Chris anything?” he chuckled, “So Colin, huh. It's that why you've been mostly MIA for months now.”

“Part of the reason.”

“What's the other part?”

“I told you. I’m not drunk enough,” she said, beginning to gather the courage to finally tell her story.


	4. Chapter 4

Sebastian came into Emma’s life during the auditions for the movie. Chris and Emma were doing it on their own, a passion project for them both. Emma was the one who suggested that Sebastian audition, and Chris had nothing against it. Since Emma regularly thought about how no one else would’ve be able to play that character so gracefully, beautifully and precisely. Sebastian played him the way Emma envisioned him when she was writing the book.

They got really close during production. Sebastian insisted on consulting her on every detail of the background story, asked so many questions, wanting to know as much about the character as he could. That’s how their conversation started, and it never ended. They grew close, she was a bit closer with Sebastian, not just because of Chris’ constant protective attitude, but because of their characters. Emma didn’t have any other family and those two somehow became it, but Sebastian was the one she had more things in common.

She was sitting on his big arm chair, sipping a mixture of vodka and pineapple juice from a large coffee mug. She looked at Sebastian slouched into the couch, looking at her and expecting for the more she promised.

“Me and Colin we’re gonna have a kid,” she blurted it out, suddenly feeling a shitload lighter.

“What?” Sebastian returned, shocked expression on his face.

“I was sixteen weeks pregnant when they detected that the baby hadn’t developed kidneys. He wasn’t going to survive and it was best if I got an abortion,” she explained, pausing between her sentences, “I went to ten different doctors they all said the same thing, the most the baby could survive was about twenty minutes, maximum.”

“Fuck.”

“I went to get an abortion. And Colin went back to Scarlett.”

“You’re saying it like it was on the same day,” Sebastian said, disbelief in his voice.

“Not exactly. Few days before. And the thing itself was a three day, multiple appointment thing.”

“Did he go with you?” he queried.

“No, I went alone,” she shrugged, then took another sip of her drink.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“You were filming in Vancouver,” she stated, taking another pause for another sip, “And I didn’t really know how to tell you.”

“Family emergency dickhead, I would’ve gotten here for those three days. I can’t believe that you went through that shit all on your own,” he spoke, slightly frustrated. Emma looked down at blanket in her lap, “Shit. I wanna punch Colin in the face.”

“Yeah, get in line.”

“Why do you still show up for him?” Sebastian’s question followed quickly after her statement.

“He calls, texts, e-mails by the pretence of just checking up on me. He calls me drunk to tell me he loves me, and I’m sure he doesn’t remember that shit in the morning, but… fuck,” the last syllable left her lips with a sigh.

“You need to get it out of your system so you can move on.”

“I can’t wait for you to get to Dublin so we can do this drinking and heart spilling thing on a regular basis,” Emma said, slouching down into the chair, allowing herself to finally breathe out fully.

“Me too. After all, what kind of older brother would I be if I let you drink by yourself?”


	5. Chapter 5

Emma thought way too much about the past. It aided to her sleepless nights, disrupted her creative process, and sometimes felt like a prison. She needed to get it out of her system, all the frustration, pain and unsaid words.

She knew only one way how to achieve that. And it was a bit on the nose.


	6. Chapter 6

One the first day they met, he charmed her with the way he talked. Assertive, well-read. Educated. Everything she wasn’t. Everything she couldn’t afford to be when the time was right for it. Everything she thought it was too late to become.

They had lots of common interests. The conversations were easy to start and impossible to finish. Maybe she wasn’t conventionally educated, but Emma knew her shit. They understood each other, understood the passion each of them had for the work they were doing. It was easy for Emma to relax for the first time in her life, it was easy to trust Colin, even though she didn’t know much about him.

By the end of the week, it was a different tale. She was no longer the only one interested. She played it cool long enough to see if he’d be the one reaching out, starting conversations just for the sake of it. It was obvious to them. But no one else knew the truth.

Friends in front of everyone else. So much more in private.


	7. Chapter 7

_Where are you?_

_On my way to a meeting._

_Can we grab dinner tonight?_

_I can’t. I’ll be gone by then._

_You serious? I just wanted to apologize for last night._

_I can’t make it, Colin. My meeting runs till one, and I’m going straight to the airport, my flight is at three._

Don’t apologize, Emma thought. Just don’t apologize for not having the time and you’ll be fine.

_What was the point of you coming if we can’t even hang out?_

Hanging out with Colin was the last thing Emma wanted to do.

_The point was that I have a meeting the day after your birthday, and you begged me to show up to the party. But I also have work to do, and work is at home._

_When are you coming next?_

_I don’t know._

_How is that possible?_

“We’re here miss,” the cab driver said.

Emma quickly slipped her phone into her purse and passed the driver a banknote.

“Keep the change,” she said, opening the door to get out.

A ‘have a good day’ later, she was walking into the office building of the literary agency that represented her.

The meeting ran twenty minutes late, constant interruptions during it. There was an issue at hand, the publisher didn’t want to publish the manuscript Emma wanted published next. Too big of a genre difference, they had said, she needed to further hook the fans she had made with her first book.

Luckily, she had a back-up plan – she had more than one book to offer them.

The meeting was intriguing, exhausting. They were discussing strategies about getting the problematic manuscript published and it was something she needed to focus on. She completely forgot about the conversation between her and Colin.

But when the meeting ended, and she got into the cab for the airport, checking her phone was inevitable.

And there they were. Three little words that felt like someone had sucker punched her in the stomach.

_I miss you._


	8. Chapter 8

_It dawned on me that the last time I saw you was the morning after._

_When did this dawn on you? Cause if it’s just now, I gotta say, I expected more from you Colin. It’s been months._

_I’ve been busy._

_So have I._

_What are you doing tonight? I wanna take you out._

_I’ll clear my schedule._

He took her to a fancy restaurant. Their first date was the memory Emma came back to most frequently because it all seemed so innocent back then. It was not complicated yet. They were just two assholes that really liked each other and held onto a single night of fantastic sex.

They talked about their favorite authors. Emma laughed at him when he said Hemingway, saying it was a cliché. Her answer was George Elliot and Ursula K. Le Guin, she could never decide, which prompted Colin to roll his eyes.

“I know they’re completely different, and it shouldn’t be that hard to pick. But they’re both special to me for the way their work has influenced the way I write.”

Then the conversation switched to favorite books, a subject both of them had a lot to say about. That’s how the date naturally progressed to a stroll around a bookstore.

It ended with Colin walking her to her front door, and them scheduling another date before the goodbye kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

Walking up to her house, Emma was greeted by a surprise. He was sat on the chair on her porch. After how they left things the night before she went to New York, Emma didn’t expect to see him again so soon.

“I knew when your flight was landing,” he said instead of a hello.

“Of course,” Emma offered a nod, jumbling with her keys to find the correct one and unlock the front door.

“I’m sorry about the other night. I went a little too far,” he spoke as he got up, following her inside, “I wanted to apologize. And get my things.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“I’m sorry.”

“John, it’s okay. It really is,” she said and seconded it with a soft smirk. She then took a deep breath before adding, “I’m in a too weird of a place to be able to be in a healthy relationship. I realized that yesterday. You were right the other night, though a little bit cruel. But I shouldn’t be wasting your time, and you had every right to call me out on it.”

For a moment, a dumbstruck look showed up on his face. He cleared his throat, and took a step back, processing the shock. She was so adamant about him being wrong the other night, suddenly agreeing was sure to cause this reaction.

“You’ll be okay, Emma, you know that, right,” he then said.

“I hope you’re right.”


	10. Chapter 10

_Wanna get drinks with me?_

_Always._

She invited him out on her last night off before she had to leave the city. She and Chris had a busy week of auditions ahead, they held them in LA. Production was going to be split between Vancouver and New York, and it wasn’t like they weren’t going to see each other ever again. But Emma wanted one last night out with Colin before she had so much work to focus on. Or maybe, she wanted something to hold onto. It didn’t matter that they weren’t ‘a thing’. She was well aware of all the obstacles between them, main one being the age difference. She didn’t want to be ‘a thing’ that night, she wanted a memory - a refresher or memory.

And it seemed to be the unspoken mutual understanding between them, cause as soon as they exited the bar, Colin's fingers found their way around Emma's. It was a small move that both calmed her heart down, and made it freak out. It was a move she appreciated because it made what they were about to do feel less like an emotionless hook-up, and more like a... maybe something more. She immediately stopped that train of thought.

In one shape or the other, that contact continued during the cab ride to Colin's place. The contact continued during their trip up the stairs.

The first kiss of the night happened as soon as they got behind closed doors. Colin pulled her towards him, then he gently brushed his lips against hers, testing the waters, taking a pause immediately after. Emma initiated the follow up, a frantic and passionate exchange that left them both gasping.

It suddenly became so much better than the first time.


	11. Chapter 11

“Hello.”

“Hey. What are you doing? Can you talk?” Colin’s voice came through the speakerphone.

Emma was doing laundry, slowly filling up the washer, one piece at a time. She could talk. She didn’t particularly want to, all their conversations tended to be filled with awkward moments, so unlike the way they both used to operate. But she could talk. So she did.

“I can talk,” she said.

“How was your flight?”

“It was good. Not a lot of turbulence.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry about the other night. I had a few drinks. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did.”

Emma was sick of people apologizing. She was especially sick of Colin apologizing for the completely wrong thing. She learned to say the three words that he most wanted to hear, and drop the rest, she had been doing it for months now.

“It’s okay. Really.”

“Okay,” he said and paused shortly, “How are you?”

“I’m good. Keeping busy. You?”

“Me too. Work never stops.”

“Uh-huh,” she muttered.

Another pause followed, time filled with uncertainty and awkwardness.

“Is the tattoo permanent?”

Emma looked down at her wrist, surprised by the question. What was he really going for with that question? No. Shake away the thought, she mouthed. Don’t start a fight. Focus on anything else. Fold the clothes from the drier. Take a deep breath.

“Yes, Colin. It’s permanent.”

“Why did you pause?”

“Cause I don’t like what that question insinuated. I don’t like this interrogation.”

She could hear Colin sigh.

“When did you get it?”

“The beginning of March.”

“Did it hurt?”

Not as much as being alone that day, she thought. Definitely not as much as hiding and not being able to mourn when she needed to, putting her grief on hold until she could get away – that was the hardest part.

“Yes.”

“Did it help you?”

“In what way?”

“Did it make it easier to forget?”

“I haven’t forgotten, Colin. It didn’t erase any pain either.”

“It was the right thing to do, right.”

Emma stopped. She knew he wasn’t asking about the tattoo. Colin had the tendency to ask that question a lot.

“He would’ve died quickly and in terrible pain. There was no doctor that could save him.”

“I know. I just needed to hear it again.”

Sometimes, Emma needed for him not to pick up the phone to call her.


	12. Chapter 12

_What are your thoughts on basketball?_

_That’s a random question._

_I’m at a bar, watching basketball with some of my friends, and I wanted to know your thoughts on it._

_How drunk are you?_

_Just a little tipsy._

_Good. Then you’ll remember. The list goes: basketball, handball, tennis, water sports, winter sports. Everything else is boring bullshit._

_Agreed. What are you doing?_

_Making casting choices._

_Cast me as your boyfriend._

_Smooth. They teach you that at Harvard?_

_No. That’s tipsy me talking. Sober me is much more sophisticated._

_I can only hope so._

_What do you say?_

_I say, I’ll see you next week._

_Don’t cast anyone more handsome than me._

_You’re not giving me a lot of choice there._

_Great. Solid burn. I walked right into that one._

_Enjoy your basketball._

 

“You’re right. I don’t think anyone is right for the lead as well” Chris spoke, his eyes focused on the table, in front of him a mess of headshots, their attempt at narrowing it down.

“What about that guy you worked with… Sebastian. He fits the description, maybe he’ll be interested. If you think he could pull it off.”

“He could,” Chris said, finally looking up from the photographs, before he rushed to his feet, “I’ll ask. I’ll be right back.”

Chris leaving the room gave her the chance to check her phone once more.

 

_Enjoy your hot guys. I most definitely am not jealous._

Emma sat back, gave herself the chance to think it through. Was a relationship with Colin really that great of an idea?

She lost herself in her train of thought, dissecting how the situation could potentially play out. She was only brought back by the sound of the door closing.

“So?”

“We’ll meet with him in New York next week and work a few things out. But he’s in.”


	13. Chapter 13

Emma stared at the computer screen, the blank word processor page seemed inviting, but she didn’t know exactly how to start. She had been sitting like that for maybe ten minutes, her fingers stiff above the keyboard from refusing to touch any letter. It wasn’t going to be easy.

 The idea itself was a working progress, maybe that’s why the words just didn’t want to come out. Emma knew what she wanted to achieve with the story, but the kinks were yet to be worked out, details were yet to be decided on. What was usually the most fun stage of writing for her, the part where you can make all the mistakes you want in pursuit of the best story, this time was a drag. One wrong move and everything she was going to say could suddenly become a lie.


	14. Chapter 14

Emma sat on the counter of Colin’s kitchen, a glass of red wine set beside her on one side, while Colin was cooking on the other. They kept the conversation light, exchanged glimpses and meaningful looks, and let the music Colin had put on to cool them down in the moments when they could feel themselves getting tense.

“The recipe made it sound so easy,” Colin stated, a knife in his hand as he looked down at a chicken breast laid on his chopping board, “I forgot to look up what butterflying is.”

“You look like you could use some help,” Emma offered.

“Shush, I’m cooking,” Colin deadpanned.

Emma rolled her eyes. Right. She could only hope that it wasn’t Colin’s ego talking. He didn’t know some basic stuff, he couldn’t afford to deny her help.

She looked at the print on Colin’s wall, in search for something to focus on while being discreet. She then started whispering, playing it off as a secret.

“Lay your nondominant hand on top of the chicken, press firmly but gently, you want it to be secure, but not pinned down so much that it changes its shape,” Emma said, taking a short glimpse of what Colin was doing to make sure he was doing it right, “Lay your knife horizontally, in the middle of the height of the chicken breast, use it to start cutting the meat in two layers. Do it bit by bit. Don’t cut all the way through and make shallow cuts so you don’t go too far.”

“You cook?” Colin queried, receiving a nod of the head as a response, “You keep surprising me.”

“Why would that be a surprise?” Emma returned, an innocent smile on her lips.

“I thought with the whole feminist attitude you display came the refusal to succumb to stereotypical female roles,” he said with a playful tone of voice.

“Feminism is about having choice. I chose to learn how to cook cause I’ve had to take care of myself since I was young. Even more since I was thirteen, then completely since I was fifteen. Feeding yourself is a huge part of that.”

“What do you mean ‘since thirteen’?”

“My parents gave me up then, I was in and out of horrible foster homes for a couple of years,” she said, rubbing her palms to decrease her nervousness, that was something she didn’t speak about often, “Then I started the emancipation process when I was fifteen, I had to work two jobs and go to school, all while I lived with four roommates. Hence I had to learn grown up things. Can’t be a strong independent woman while depending on others for food, shelter and clothing,” Emma spoke, avoiding all possible eye contact with Colin. When she finally faced him, she immediately turned away, “No, don’t look at me like that. Please don’t pity me.”

“Sorry,” he said, looking down before he focused on her once more, “It’s just… at fifteen you were a bigger grown up than I am now.”

“Yes, that is correct,” she offered a smile, “Will you let me help you now?”

“Only if you know what deglaze is supposed to be.”

“Really? You need my help,” she said, climbing down from the counter.


	15. Chapter 15

Every morning Emma did the same thing, a routine she developed ever since she moved into the house. This morning was no different.

She woke up, made sure the computer was turning on while she went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth and showered. She then put the kettle on for a cup of tea, checked the weather on her phone, took a stroll around the huge backyard and checked on the bird feeders and bird houses on the patch of woods on her property while her tea was steeping. She then returned inside and drank her warm cup of tea while she replied her e-mails, an activity she put a timer on for because she didn’t want to spend more than an hour on it. She then focused on writing, or editing, or whatever was the task at hand for that day.

And things were looking good. She received a confirmation about which book the publisher wanted, she shot back an email saying they’ll receive the final manuscript in four months.

She scrolled through the rest of her emails, stopping at ones about new releases that interested her, direct ones from her author friends about reading through their current WIPs, personal emails… And then shit.

Scarlett’s name among the emails caught her eye, and it terrified her for a moment. What the actual fuck? When did she give Scarlett her email? She was certain that she never did. And what could she want?

 

_Hey, Emma._

_I hope you’re having a great day._  
_Here are the photographs from Colin’s birthday party, in case you wanted to have some for the memory books. It was such a fun time, and I’m glad that you could make it._  
_Hope to see you soon!_

_Love,  
Scarlett_

 

Reading the email felt like an out of body experience. Emma didn’t recall posing for any pictures that night. Did Scarlett send that email to everyone? Why would she send that to anyone?

The wording was slightly off, Emma noticed that immediately. But the photos? Why would anyone want those photographs?

After downloading the zip file and going through the photos she wasn’t in, Emma picked up her phone and messaged the group chat she was in that was made out of people who were there that night. Pete, Cecily, Leslie, Aidy – that was the whole list, and coincidentally it was also the list of people who were there and she knew she could trust.

 

_Did any of you get an email with photos from Colin’s birthday? Scarlett sent me this zip, but few are damaged._

 

A white lie to help her come to the truth.

She shook the feeling off but when all four responses came, the uneasiness settled. No one else got an email. No one else got the photos. It suddenly felt like a fucking conspiracy theory.

Emma looked through the photos again, trying to figure out why she was the one getting them. After the second time scrolling through them it became clear. It wasn’t about photos she was in – there weren’t any. It was about the photos that Colin and Scarlett were in. They looked happy. That’s what Scarlett wanted in Emma’s memory books.

Scarlett knew. And Scarlett didn’t want Emma around. But little did Scarlett know that Emma didn’t want them around either.

She suddenly felt so close to breaking free.


	16. Chapter 16

The next few weeks were a bit too quiet for Emma’s taste. She had gotten used to random calls from Colin about weird subjects and at random times, being forwarded e-mails with science news articles, and texts with set up and punch line jokes. But since the e-mail from Scarlett it was radio silence. She enjoyed the silence. She wished she could have more of it, she wished it could last forever.

But as they say, all good things come to an end.


	17. Chapter 17

_Hey. Hi, it’s me. I didn’t mean to leave a message, I was gonna hang up before the beep, but I failed and went too far. Sorry. Um… I had a long day, and I just wanted to hear your voice, and the answering machine got that covered. I know you’re busy, but if you have a moment free, feel free to call me when you can, don’t just text okay? Okay. Um, I miss you. Call me._

Emma grinned as she heard the message. She was going through the messages she had received on her landline throughout the last ten days, she called in from a payphone on a busy Vancouver street, at nearly three am. The first week and a half of production was going fairly smoothly, according to everyone involved. They were mostly on schedule. But that also meant that she had found it impossible to stop working.

She managed to sneak away time for a personal text here and there, and a ten minute anti-anxiety guided meditation to help her relax, but most of the time in the day was spent in a never ending stream of script changes, answering questions about character’s emotions, helping the cast run lines. She was doing everything she can to bring her vision to life.

Colin’s message on the answering machine, a one between the few from agents and the phone company, pleasantly surprised her.

They were in touch, as he said in the voicemail, they were texting on the regular. But hearing someone’s voice was so different.

She quickly hung up and slipped a coin into the machine, dialing Colin’s number which she’s by now had memorized. It goes straight to voicemail.

_Hey, I just got you message. For the record, this is me calling, and not for the first time, but it is my first message. I guess our schedules aren’t exactly in our favor as of late. I will try again this time tomorrow, if you get it by then, and if you’re awake for some reason, I look forward to talking to you live, and not on a recording. I miss you too, I really do_


	18. Chapter 18

 “This is the last thing I expected,” Sebastian said, seconding his statement with a smile.

When they were talking about the movie he’s doing here, they also talked about his arrival at Dublin Airport, and him getting Emma’s correct address so he can get there on the first try. He hadn’t visited before, no one had. Emma had only finalized the renovation two months back. They talked about what they could do while he’s here, they talked about how she’s busy with working on the new book and how they can work around both their weird schedules to visit places around the country.

They didn’t talk about Emma coming to meet him at the airport. But she thought it would be a nice surprise. And she hadn’t left her house in three days, she desperately needed a break from sitting at her desk. By deciding to wait at baggage claim, she managed to remedy it all, leave the house, take a walk, mingle with some strangers.

“Thought you’d appreciate a guide for your first trip to Dublin,” Emma offered.

“Hi. It’s good to see you,” Sebastian said, keeping his smile as he gave Emma a hug.

“It’s good to see you too,” she returned. As they ended the hug she said, “Come on, grab your luggage, our cab is waiting.”

“You have a cab waiting?” Sebastian questioned, already spotting his suitcases on the baggage carousel.

“The one I came in. It’s easier that way rather than hauling a new one. And I was chatting to the driver, and he told me he was from Romania, I thought it was a weird coincidence, so I asked him to wait,” she explained.

“How much did you pay him to wait, just to make me feel more at home?”

“Does it matter?” Emma shrugged her shoulders,

“No, I guess not. You’re a great little sister, you know.”

“I know,” she smiled in response. She watched as Sebastian pulled his luggage from the carousel, she took one suitcase from his hands to help, and they headed for the exit.

For the first time in the last few weeks, Emma knew she would be alright. Cause having someone in her life know the whole story and not push her away because of it felt a whole lot of great.


	19. Chapter 19

Emma got woken up by the sound of her cell phone ringing. She and Sebastian had stayed up a little later than they should’ve, with Sebastian still on New York time she knew the first few days would be late nights and late mornings. A phone call a few minutes after eight am wasn’t welcomed, whatsoever.

She felt too tired to open her eyes, and instead of checking who was calling, or hanging up and risking that they’d call again, she answered the call.

“Hello.”

“Hey,” she heard Colin’s voice. Emma cursed herself for picking up, “Did I wake you up?”

“You did,” she said. Fuck. He’s slurring his speech. He’s drunk.

“Sorry.”

“Have you been drinking?” Emma asked, hoping she can lead the conversation to getting him to end the conversation.

“A little,” Colin admitted. Emma could almost see the way his face looked as he said the words. Emma pinched the bridge of her nose, carefully picking her words she wants to say.

“How about you go home, and go to bed. Call me when you sober up. It’s too early anyway.”

“I can’t. I have to talk to you,” Colin then said.

“Is everything okay?” the words left Emma’s mouth in an almost rehearsed way.

“No, it’s not. I fucked up,” Colin got almost choked up as he spoke. This worried Emma. She had never heard Colin say that he’s fucked up, or not say that things are okay.

“What did you do?” she asked, attempting to remain calm.

“I’m in love with you,” he offered a reply that had nothing to do with what they’re talking about, or Emma’s question.

“Colin. What did you do?” she repeated, sitting up in her bed as fear starts to wash over her.

“Remember the first time I told you I loved you? You came back from Vancouver for like two days, and you had a really bad cold, but I kissed you anyway. You tasted like cherry flavored throat lozenges and smelled like Vicks Vaporub,” Colin spoke, recounting the memories that Emma had been writing down in a lame attempt at erasing from her mind, “God, I fucking miss how easy it was back then. It was simple,” she couldn’t help but agree, but letting him know that won’t help her with anything at the moment. So she waited, allowing for the silence between them force Colin to answer the previous question, “I told her.”

The words were the biggest shock. They felt like a slap in the face, a punch in the gut, and getting all the air knocked out of your body at the same time.

“Told who?” she questioned, hoping the answer is different from the one she suspects.

“Scarlett. I told her.”

Shit. Fuck. Worst nightmare coming fucking true.

“Why did you do that?” Emma felt strands of desperation in her voice.

“Cause I’m in love with you. And I can’t keep pretending that I’m not. I’m gonna fix this, you know. I’m gonna do whatever it takes. I’m gonna win you back,” as Colin spoke Emma was at the verge of tears, “And I’m gonna forgive you.”

“What are you going to forgive me for?” she queried and failed at keeping her voice calm as she spoke.

“Not telling me that you have history of kidney disease in your family.”

She was being blamed for something that wasn’t her fault. Or anyone else’s.

She couldn’t believe that after all that time, that was what he thought of her. She knew that he needed someone to blame, she did too at the beginning. But even as she battled against that urge for the first several months, she never landed on Colin as the guilty one. And her heart sunk as the realization struck.

She didn’t – no one in Emma’s estranged family ever had any health issues connected to their kidneys. She wondered why he thought of her that way.

She didn’t say anything.

“Call me when you sober up,” Emma returned.

“No, Em. I want to talk to you now.”

“Colin, what I have to tell you, only sober you can understand.”

“Bullshit,” Colin’s voice was stern when he said the word, “Tell me now.”

“No,” Emma responded, not realizing that she was getting louder.

“Emma, talk to me, please.”

“No. Sleep it off, then give me a call.”

“I’ll keep calling you until you tell me.”

“No!” she returned.

“Emma!”

“You’re being a huge asshole.”

“No, I’m not,” Colin said, defending himself. Emma couldn’t take it anymore. The verbal vomit was well on its way, and this time she wasn’t stopping it, she wasn’t biting her tongue.

“You want to know now? Fine,” she said, on the verge with yelling the words out, “You’re gonna forgive me? I don’t have a history of kidney disease in my family. You have nothing to forgive me for. And you know what? I don’t forgive you for anything. For getting back together with your ex before breaking up with me. For breaking up with me two days before the abortion. Or for putting me in the situation where I had to go and deal with that on my own. Have you ever wondered how it went? How long it took? How I got home?” she stopped only to catch a breath. Her voice was breaking every few words as hot tears streamed down her face, “I was alone for all of it. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done any of it, you wouldn’t have walked away. You can’t come to me with your forgiveness and winning me back bullshit. It’s not going to happen. You weren’t there when I needed you most. You ditched me when I needed you most. I don’t want you to fix anything. I only show up and answer your calls because you won’t leave me alone. Just leave me alone, I want to move on. I need to move on. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you, Colin?”

“Yes,” he said, a barely audible confirmation.

“Do we have a deal? Are you gonna leave me alone now?” Emma asked, desperate for a second confirmation.

“No,” he said. Simple, two lettered word followed by him hanging up. Shit.

The cell phone slipped down from Emma’s fingers and fell on her duvet. She was frozen for a few moments, her sadness no longer mixed with it – it was all faded into anger. This conversation had her turning into a ball of anger, and the worst part was that there was a good chance that Colin wouldn’t remember it in the morning.

“Are you okay?” she heard Sebastian ask. In the heat of the moment she hadn’t realized that he came to her room and was standing in the doorway.

“No,” she responded, mirroring Colin’s intonation.

“I can make you some tea, and we can talk about it,” he said, and she knew she’d be an idiot to pass up on the offer. Emma had a great streak with venting helping her a lot.

“That would be great.”


End file.
